


It Should Be Me

by Minxie



Series: Harry/Ron [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: KINK: D/s, M/M, REPOST (2006)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minxie/pseuds/Minxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron returns from assignment planning to relax in his favorite Muggle bars for a night or three only to be confronted with an image he never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Should Be Me

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Jadzia7667

Ron Weasley was back. After a three-month assignment in Egypt, the damp coolness of home washed over his skin, sending a shiver through his whole body. Moving through his spartan flat, Ron showered the sand and dust away before searching through his closet. Tonight he was going out. He’d more than earned a break on this last assignment and he planned to take full advantage of his week off. 

Knowing what he wanted tonight, he pulled out a pair of black leather trousers. He knew just the place to go… _Heaven_ , the perfect Muggle bar for his mood. Loud and fun with just a bit of an edge. Snapping on the thick black collar that matched the pants, he grabbed his jacket to ward off the chill and Apparated to an alley a safe distance away. Moving past the queue to the open doors, he smirked. Membership definitely had its perks.

Once inside, he stowed his jacket with the barman and moved deep into the throng on bodies dancing to the pulsing music. The sweat glistened on his chest and back as one song morphed into another and still another. Finally, hot and thirsty, Ron pushed his way back to the bar. Drink in hand, he found a small table in an out of the way corner to sit and catch his breath at.

Tipping the drink back, he scanned the crowd over the glass. He glanced over a messy mop of black hair before trailing his eyes over the back of the lean body. Harry Potter. He ran his eyes over the muscled form again. It was definitely Harry; he’d know that arse anywhere. What the hell was Harry doing in a Muggle bar?

Ron leaned back into his chair and watched. He watched Harry move around the Muggle bar, dressed in skintight leather matched with a shirt that had to be at least two sizes too small. Watched as he flirted shamelessly with the other men before he pushed them away with a smile and a wink. Watched as he wrapped his arms around the man who was clearly his lover. Ron watched and, with each passing moment, fell into a deeper state of shock.

It wasn’t the fact that he had unwittingly found Harry in a gay bar. No, that fact was well known in the wizarding world thanks to Rita ‘I Shoulda Been Squashed’ Skeeter. It wasn’t the fact that Harry was wearing clothing that left _nothing_ to the imagination. That, those oh-so-tight clothes, had appeared as soon as Voldemort was turned to ash in the purification ritual. Not even his friend’s blatantly sexual movements caused shock anymore; they’d arrived about the same time the clothing had. It was Harry’s companion that had shocked Ron.

The redhead had expected a Muggle, this being a Muggle bar and all. The man on Harry’s arm was a wizard; a damn good wizard Ron grudgingly admitted to himself. He was definitely worthy of Harry; he’d proven himself more than once in the war.

But hell, as far as Ron had known he was barely a friend, much less shagging material. Ron snorted at that thought. Evidently, somewhere along the line, Harry had passed the whole friendship stage without telling anyone else. Ron’s eyes darted around the bar, searching for Harry one last time, trying to confirm that he had indeed seen who he thought he had.

Yup. Ron was certain now.

Draco ‘I Make Such A Cute Little Ferret’ Malfoy was snogging his best mate on the damn dance floor in Muggle London.

Shit.

Ron let the chair drop forward with a heavy slap against the bare floor. How the hell had this happened? Harry and Malfoy? They sure as hell looked like they’d been at this… this…whatever the hell it was for a while now. Harry was completely comfortable with reaching out and touching what he wanted. Nope, this was definitely not a new thing between them.

To add insult to injury, from the way they were dressed and the way they were acting towards each other, their relationship was exactly what Ron had gone scouting for. Ron forcefully relaxed his jaw. Slowly the dull throb from gritting his teeth left his jaw only to take up residence in his head.

Damn it.

He pushed out of the chair and, using the shadows of the dance floor, moved closer to the couple. As he crept forward, he could easily hear Harry’s dulcet tones. “Tonight, pet.”

A group of laughing men passed close by, blocking Malfoy’s response from Ron. When he could hear again, Harry was obviously in the middle of a sentence. “…tonight. That was our understanding, was it not?”

“Master…” Draco’s petulant response had Ron groaning in frustration, thankful of the loud music covering his noises.

Damn it all to hell. 

Ron closed his eyes, leaning back against the darkened wall. “It should be me.” Dragging a hand through his long red hair, his voice clogging with unexpressed emotion, he said, “Damn it, Harry. It should be me.”

He opened his eyes when he felt the tingle of Harry’s magic go past him. Ron, making a snap decision, trailed behind the couple, using the dark club to cover his movement. He kept telling himself to leave, to stop tormenting himself this way. Knowing you desire your best mate is one thing, following behind him and watching him with an old childhood enemy was worse than Chinese Water torture.

“You’re an idiot, Weasley.” The muttered words might have acknowledged the lunacy of his actions but it didn’t slow him down one bit. He _had_ to follow them, had to know…to know how much they were to one another. He needed to know Harry was happy and then, maybe, he could be happy for him, even if he wasn’t the one making Harry happy.

Damn it.

Ron held back, waiting as Harry pushed through a familiar door. They, Harry and Draco, were going to the back rooms. The rooms that the club made available for patrons who either couldn’t wait to get back home or were having a simple one off with a stranger. Ron had always used the rooms for the latter reason. It had always been a stranger…always a brunet stranger, preferably with bright green eyes. Ducking into the hall, Ron noticed that Harry left the door to their room open.

Well. Mr. Potter seemed to have a kink. Okay, another kink.

At least it made spying on them easier.

Ron slid along the wall, the brick stinging against his bare back, until he could hear their voices. “Draco, this was our agreement. You do remember the contract we signed last week, don’t you?” He could hear the concealed aggravation in Harry’s voice. With a smirk, he wondered if Malfoy had picked up on it yet. “You know, the one that we took months agreeing on?”

Months. Guess that answered one of Ron’s questions. Shaking free of the maudlin wishes that it was him instead of Malfoy, Ron turned back to the conversation just in time to hear Malfoy snap, “I know what I signed, what we agreed to. But…”

YES! Ron wanted to jump up and down like he’d just won the World Quidditch Cup. Malfoy just said ‘but’. That had to be good, right? Meant he would have a chance with Harry, right? Right…as long as he could muster the courage to tell him.

“I was right. You and I don’t want the same things.” Harry said. He was using that same voice of reason he’d adopted during the war. The aggravation was still lurking underneath the words. As always, though, Harry held the irritation back.

It was that, the tone of level command in Harry’s voice, that had caused Ron to spend half the war panting after Harry like a dog in heat praying that just once his friend would look at him and see more than his ‘best mate’. It was also one of the reasons that, since the war, he always volunteered for the assignments that would have him relocate for extended periods of time. The more he was gone, the less he came in contact with that voice. Granted, that voice had opened an entire world of sexual experimentation for him that had led to his current choices, but still…

“I’ll give you the flat tonight, Draco. Tomorrow or the next day we can talk about cleaning it out.”

The sound of glass crashing against the wall was quickly followed by a voice Ron recognized in an instant…one highly pissed off Malfoy. “That’s it? If I won’t play pet to your Master, it’s over?”

“Draco.” He was no longer trying to hide his annoyance behind patience and platitudes. “We both know that this was an effort on your part to be what I wanted. If you recall,” the sneer was palpable in his words, “I had doubts about this…”

“Then why the hell did you go through with it?” Ron actually cheered for Malfoy on that one. Harry should have known better.

“I should have known better. I got caught up in what we had during the war instead of doing the right thing.”

Well. Okay, so maybe he did know what the hell he was supposed to be doing.

Since the war? Shit. Damn. Shit.

“You were the one who left and then came back. You were the one kneeling at the door.” Harry sighed, suddenly he sounded tired. “Look, Draco, you deserve to be happy. I’m not the person to do that for you.”

“Harry,” Malfoy whined, “you deserve to be happy too. Can you tell me that this is what you want, what you need, to be happy?”

Ron held his breath, straining to hear every word. The answer would let him know if he should approach Harry or not. For him it wasn’t a game to play at. He needed his partner to be just as sure it was a lifestyle as he was. “This is me, Draco. Who I am, who I had to become fulfilling that damn prophecy.” Ron heard Harry’s footfalls moving closer to the door; his voice was loud and clear, almost as if he were speaking more for Ron than Draco. “A truly happy, fulfilling relationship for me _will_ encompass this lifestyle. And that, Draco, is the difference between us. For you it was playing at something; for me it is a way to live.”

“I don’t understand it, Harry,” Draco replied softly. “I don’t understand what you get out of having a _pet_.”

Harry chuckled softly at the disgust in Draco’s voice. “It takes a certain personality, Draco. Dominance is something I crave. I’m happy, though, that you are at least showing your true opinion about this now.”

The click of Draco removing the lead and then unbuckling the collar resounded through the quiet room. “Why do you want someone who is weak?”

Weak? My arse. Bet the little ferret wouldn’t say that where a sub might hear him.

Harry laughed heartily while Ron bristled at the words. “It takes more strength to completely surrender than you realize, Draco. Many of the strongest people I know are subs.”

“I don’t see it, Harry.” Draco’s voice was resolved in his opinion. Ron wondered how much longer Harry was going to try and talk to him about it. “Can we talk about this more tomorrow?”

Say no, Harry. Say no. Ron crossed his fingers like some superstitious Muggle and held his breath.

Harry hadn’t moved away from the door, even his softest comment clear for the eavesdropper to hear. “Draco, how long has it been since we made love? Or even shared more than a kiss?”

“Fine. I get it. I’ll start packing my things tonight.” Draco Apparated away without another word.

Ron listened to Harry pace the room before the dark haired wizard called out, “You might as well come in Ron. I’ve known you were there since the dance floor.”

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Ron walked through the open door, face blazing in embarrassment and a shy smile dancing around his lips. “Hiya Harry.”

Harry gave Ron a soft glare. “What we you thinking spying on me like that?”

Well. That one was easy.

Dropping gracefully to his knees, lowering his eyes, he said, “It should be me.”

_…fini…_


End file.
